by R Weir
“Wake up buddy,” said Scanlon. “We just got a call about a house fire up in the hills we should check out.”
Hunter shook the sleep from his brain. “House fire? What for?”
“Suspicious circumstances. Could be connected to our case. M.E. called our dispatch related to the BOLO distributed. Appears they have a man with a gunshot wound to the left thigh.”
“Sounds promising.”
“Only one thing though. He is dead.”
Hunter looked perplexed. “I doubt he’d have died from where I shot him.”
“It wasn’t your shot that killed him. M.E. believes he was shot again.”
Hunter shrugged, unsure where this was headed.
“Interesting. It definitely wasn’t me. I only shot him once.”
“And here is the kicker. To top it off they roasted him for good measure by burning the house he was in down.”
Hunter closed his eyes, his head shaking while mouthing an obscenity. A reaction he often had when he didn’t understand what the hell was going on.
Chapter 20
The Black Forest region was east and north of Colorado Springs, a sprawling area nestled within a dense amount of Ponderosa Pines. Never being designated as a city, the residents voting against a measure in the past, it still had numerous houses on large lots hidden within the trees, with a population of over 13,000. It was a quiet place for the newest team of kidnappers to hold up while planning their next caper.
Valerie arrived back early in the afternoon, her day at the high school finished, having learned a great deal from the Hawkins kids. She strolled into the home owned by her team member Travis’ sister Janet, finding the front door unlocked. Janet was a widower living by herself, along with three cats. Her husband died thirteen months ago after a long battle against Leukemia.
Valerie waved hello, seeing the sister dressed in her work clothes of a navy-blue tunic and ebony slacks. She was about to leave for her job at a local supermarket. A front-end manager to handle the evening-to-close shift.
“I’m heading to work and I’m running late,” she announced when she saw Valerie. “Do you need anything before I go?”
“I’m good. Thank you, Janet. We really appreciate you putting us up at your place while we’re in town.”
“Are you and Kyle comfortable out in the loft of the garage?” she asked while grabbing her keys and purse.
“It’s perfect for us. Do you know if he is here, along with your brother and Jamaal?”
“Travis and Jamaal left but said they’d be back by 5:30. I can’t say for certain about Kyle. I haven’t seen him. I’ve got to run. Help yourself to anything you need.”
Janet hustled out the door, the tires on her car spinning as she peeled out the dirt and gravel driveway. She was completely unaware of what her four guests were up to. Though she knew her brother had a jaded past which she chose to ignore—he was family.
Valerie rummaged around the kitchen before finding an apple, then headed outside, walking towards the garage. It was a large unit with space for three vehicles and room to work. But above on the second floor was a fully furnished loft; with full bathroom and shower; a small kitchen with stove, microwave, refrigerator, and sink; small entertainment area with sofa, a chair and TV; and a bedroom with a queen-sized bed. A space Janet and her late husband built to rent out to boarders, which she stopped doing after he passed on, not caring to deal with them, though she could have used the extra money. For now, it was the perfect space for Valerie and Kyle to sleep in and provide a meeting place to plan out the details of their next attempt at grabbing the Hawkins kids.
After climbing the stairs, she found Kyle sitting at the small kitchen table typing away on a notebook computer. She came over after placing her briefcase on the sofa and put her hands on his shoulders, squeezing them with her strong fingers.
“What are you working on?” she asked, leaning down resting her chin on his shoulder so she could see his screen better.
Kyle took a deep breath. He still couldn’t believe his luck of having her there with him. A beauty he didn’t deserve, but he did his best to enjoy, trying not to overthink it too much.
“I’m talking with our hacker friend,” he said. “I’m making sure he has put in place your profile in case someone tries to check on you.”
“How is it looking?”
“See for yourself.”
He brought up a website page, showing Valerie’s picture, with information about her schooling, degrees and years of experience in crisis management. All of it fake, but it was enough to make her appear legit to anyone getting nosy.
“And social media,” she questioned.
More keystrokes displayed a Facebook page, followed by Twitter and Instagram. All sprinkled with information and posts showing not only a personal life, but professional as well, a credited therapist with seven years of experience.
“Excellent. It would appear your hacker is quite good.”
“He got into the traffic system and fixed all the lights to red when we attacked the limo. Kept any cars away from the scene and snarling traffic making it hard for the police and fire trucks to get there. It made our escape clean, though we didn’t get the kids. We never did find out why they weren’t inside.”
“It would seem your inside person’s information isn’t always reliable.” Valerie added. She was referring to the data that had been provided about the Hawkins family.
Kyle nodded, his head turned trying to gaze into her eyes, his body enjoying her touch, to the point of arousal.
“I need to meet this person,” Valerie inquired. “Can you arrange it?” She was always plotting, thinking ahead in her planning.
“He is skittish. Not sure if he would be up to it.”
Valerie now knew it was a man. Possibly one she could exploit.
“Tell him I insist. Otherwise any future payments will stop, and word could leak out about what he’s doing, which won’t end well. We need to meet in the next couple of days, somewhere remote, away from prying eyes.”
He wanted to explain it wasn’t a good idea but couldn’t challenge her authority. He didn’t want to lose out on the pleasure she’d been promising him. Pleasure to this point she’d failed to provide him.
“I’ll try my best. How did it go at the school?”
Valerie stood up and walked over to the sofa, playing with the top buttons of her blouse.
“Couldn’t have gone any better. I had the kids in front of me, scared out of their minds. I’ll continue to work them over on the psychological front to keep them off balance. And I learned a few things about them, we may be able to leverage.”
Kyle continued to glare on his notebook screen, trying not to be distracted. Valerie was good at keeping him off balance. An emotion he enjoyed and loathed at the same time.
“Great. I’m glad it’s all going as you hoped for,” he replied while typing, most of it gibberish because he couldn’t focus.
Valerie knew there was time before the others returned. She felt like continuing the mind games with Kyle, bringing him to the edge of pleasure, but then stopping. Maintaining her control over him.
“Close your computer and turn and look at me,” murmured Valerie.
He closed the lid shut, turning around in his chair. He saw her standing there, blouse open, her lacy bra covering her firm C cup breasts, nipples firm and inviting, staring and calling to him. He stood up and walked over stopping short, her hand out telling him to wait.
“Look, don’t touch,” she cooed. “Only soak in what you see. And tell me you’ll do anything I ask for a peek, or a mere brush of my warm bosom.”
Kyle had been waiting, wanting to have all of her, the tension and buildup overwhelming. Since that first night, she’d kept him at bay, using words only to heighten his desire, but still there had been no release. It drove him mad, making him want her even more. He would do anything she asked without question.
“I will do whatever you desire,” he state
d with dry mouth. “Just say it and I will do it.”
Valerie loved being in control, pushing his buttons, making him do the work she wanted, pushing her over the edge to a fitting climax. While he waited for his own, his begging having no effect.
“On your knees,” she commanded, while removing her blouse, teasingly walking forward. “I’m feeling mighty spry after my day and you need to put me over the edge my pet!”
Kyle was scared and thrilled at the same time, doing everything she asked for the next forty minutes until her screams of desire echoed through the loft bringing her to a stimulating conclusion. Waiting all the while, holding out hope for his own release that still alluded him.
***
The El Paso county M.E. enjoyed watching the procedural TV shows, where the case of the century happens every week. Though much of the science used was correct, they often took liberties to draw conclusions, which wasn’t unusual for a one-hour drama, that had only forty minutes to solve the case. Rarely did he get excitement like they did in his day-to-day job. But today he hit the jackpot, a case of three dead bodies, burnt to a crisp, with what appeared to be gunshot wounds to the chest of each of them. Crime scenes like this only happening to him once every five years, if he was lucky. Albeit a morbid stroke of luck.
He was called early Monday morning, after the fire department had dowsed the flames, and found the bodies. Awakened from his sleep next to his wife of over thirty years, tired after a typical Sunday with his children and grandchildren, enjoying their normal day-of-rest dinner together. He felt bad about waking his wife, though she’d been through it many times before. He was thrilled it wasn’t for a simple case that wouldn’t test his skills and be easy to sign off on. When he arrived at the office his young male assistant was there giving him the details. They left in their work van, equipped with the tools of the trade, arriving onsite to find the smoldering ashes of what remained of the cabin, what appeared to be a van, and inside under debris three burnt to a crisp bodies, or so the fire fighters on the scene told him. They worked through the day, combing for clues among the ruins, bringing the bodies out one at a time when it was safe to do so. In time he discovered the additional wound to the hip, that set off a warning in his head about data he’d read on a BOLO. Going back to the van he double-checked, finding he was right and called it in, before returning to work.
The early afternoon May sun was baking the scene, the smell of ash still clouding the air, whipped by the wind, when two men walked from their car, stepping over the yellow warning tape. Scanlon flashed his badge, telling those handling crowd control they were contacted by the M.E. with important information. Both men continued their walk, covering their nose and mouth, trying to filter out the ash laden smell overwhelming their senses, wishing for a mask for protection.
“Hello Gibby,” said Scanlon through his hand.
Shane Gibson looked up; his face covered with a mask. “Detective,” he responded nodding. “A new partner?”
Scanlon glared over at Hunter with scrunched brows. “No. You know I work alone whenever possible. This is Hunter who is involved with a case I’m working in relation to the BOLO I put out. I received a call you have a possible suspect.”
Gibson stood up from the body he was working on, and walked over to another, this one still sitting on the sofa, the firefighters having pulled it out from the burnt building.
“Does he look familiar?” joked Gibson, pointing at the charred remains.
“Oh sure,” replied Hunter with a smirk. “He looks exactly as I remembered when I shot him in the thigh.”
“Not much left,” added Scanlon. “Will you be able to identify him?”
“It will be challenging. DNA is tough when the flesh is burned this badly. Didn’t find any jewelry on him. Dental work might be the only way and that would be remote at best. Anything stand out that might lead you to believe this is your guy?”
Hunter walked over, glancing at the remains. It wasn’t pleasant to stare at, though it wasn’t the first burnt corpse he’d seen. A horrid scene you never got used to. Being the man’s face was covered at the time of the shooting, he didn’t have a lot to go on.
“He looks about the correct size and build,” stated Hunter. “Beyond that I couldn’t say for certain. No bullet was found in the wound?”
Gibson leaned down, putting his gloved hands on the body. “No. Appears to be a clean and through, as there’s an exit point on the back of his leg.” He twisted the body over to show the exit hole.
“Yes. I was only trying to wound and not cripple him.”
“Hell of a shot then, depending on the distance and weapon.”
Hunter nodded. He always prided himself on his marksmanship. But in this case, he wished he’d hit the bone. It would have been helpful to have a bullet to match.
“It appears the wound was bandaged up. There’s still some of the residue left, though not a lot. I won’t be a hundred percent certain until I examine the location in the lab.”
“Scanlon mentioned he’d been shot again.”
Gibson twisted the body back against the sofa and pointed. “Gunshot to the chest. Right through the heart. Would have died instantly.”
“What about the other two corpses?” asked Scanlon.
“They were both shot in the chest as well. Those wounds were fresh before the fire happened.”
“And where were the other two bodies found?”
Gibson walked over to the front of the burnt-out building, pointing to the ground.
“On the floor nearby. It appeared they were dragged by the marks found outside the cabin, as you can see, including a blood trail that survived the fire.”
Both Scanlon and Hunter walked over, examining the ground. They could see it clearly. The two men must have been killed outside and then brought in before the fire was started.
“Thanks, Gibby. We need any information you can come up with. ID’s are essential, but any other evidence would be a bonus. Could be a random act, but three killed before burning the house might be related to what we’re working on.”
Gibson nodded. “Check with the El Paso Sheriff on scene. He probably has some other info.
Hunter and Scanlon left Gibson to work, running down the Sheriff who was gathering information. He was sitting in his car, typing on his notebook attached to the center console when Scanlon flashed his badge.
“Springs Detective,” said the Sheriff, his name plate showing a last name of Richards. “What is your interest?”
“Gibby called us in,” answered Scanlon. “One of the dead may fit a description of a man wounded at an attempted kidnapping early Sunday morning.”
Richards grimaced. “Not sure how he could match any description. Have you seen the body? More of a match to an unused charcoal briquet in my Weber grill at home.”
“He found a gunshot wound to the thigh which matches one of the suspects. Can you tell us anymore about what you may have learned?”
Richards got out of the car, standing over six foot, in full El Paso sheriff uniform which comprised of a dark gray shirt with black tie, matching slacks and polished shoes, all fitting perfectly on his toned physique. On his belt were endless pockets and holsters covering every square inch of his front, providing easy access to weapons and tools of the trade, all weighing about twenty-five pounds. He grabbed his domed hat and placed it on his receding shortly trimmed afro, pulling it down so it didn’t fly away in the wind. He appeared to be ready for inspection, presenting a clean, immaculate appearance.
“I’ll tell you what I know, which isn’t much,” commented Richards. “Call came in late yesterday about smoke and flames in this area. People are a little nervous after all the bad fires we’ve had in the region.” He pointed off in the distance to the charred forest on the hill. “It took them a while to find it, since they didn’t have an exact location, they drove around south of here. Another call gave them a better location and they finally found it. When they spotted the magnitude of the fire t
hey called in another truck and a water tanker. It took them a while to dowse it—all night into the early morning. They were worried about the nearby trees and kept them watered down until reinforcements came. It would have been a mess had it gotten into the tree line. Just what we needed around here, another raging blaze running rampant. Still have a lot of dead pine trees here from the beetle kill.”
“No witnesses then?” asked Scanlon.
“Nope. Not unless they rise from the dead.” Richards pointed to the burnt bodies.
“It looks like a van was also burned,” wondered Hunter.
“It appears to have been driven into the structure before the fire started. Definitely wanted it torched as well.”
“Did the van start the fire?”
“Arson guys don’t think so. Lots of gasoline was poured over nearly every inch before the fires were lit. Made for a fast and complete burn as you can see. They were attempting to destroy evidence. And they might have been successful for much of it is ash now.”
“Were you able to track down the owners of the cabin?” asked Scanlon.
“A housing rental company.”
“Then they have records of who rented it?”
Richards nodded, though only slightly. “They do, but it’s not leading us too far. ID they used was fake and they paid with cash. Had it rented for two months.”
“Is there a description of the person who paid?”
“Black man maybe in his thirties is all they could remember. Not a lot to go on and I doubt they could pick a face out of the lineup. From the way it sounded they think we all look pretty much the same.” Richards pointed at himself and Hunter, which got Hunter to smile.
“Like you said, not much,” noted Scanlon. “Anything else you can tell us?”
Richards got a call on his radio, and quickly responded via the microphone attached to his shirt, giving dispatch an update before answering.
“Yes. Early Sunday morning we got a call about a noise complaint. People claimed a helicopter was in the area about ten miles from here, near Highway 24, at around 5 a.m. or so. Callers said it woke them up and they were pissed, but there wasn’t much we could do. Beats me why the hell someone was flying so early in the morning.”